


Hard to Tell

by Makira820



Category: Persona 5
Genre: A bit of angsty pining, Caroline F-bomb, F/M, ShuMako Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makira820/pseuds/Makira820
Summary: Confessing his feelings was probably the only thing that didn't come naturally to him.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Niijima Makoto, Kurusu Akira/Niijima Makoto, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71
Collections: ShuMako Week 2020





	Hard to Tell

" _Eiga!_ "

Arsene appeared after the removal of his mask, summoned forth to unleash a blast of cursed energy of moderate power upon the enemy. Or at least, that was Joker's intent. The tiny plume of red energy that shot of his hand was... _embarrassing,_ putting it lightly.

The enemy, an angel clad in blood-stained armor, merely brushed the measly curse attack off like cat fur on a shirt. A wry smirk appeared on its metallic face as it raised its glaive and readied its stance for a lunge.

_'Shit!'_

He should have been more worried about himself, but all Akira could think of now was how Makoto was also in harm's way because of his inability to use a proper spell as of late. If _anything_ happened to her, it would devastate him. He wasn't going to just sit by and let her take the hit for his mistake—he'd push her out of the way if he had to.

Swiftly, he dodged to the right, unbeknownst to him that Makoto had similar plans: she dodged to the _left._ The result was them meeting in the middle of the train tracks. They'd have hit their heads if not for their shoulders taking the full brunt of the impact and quite likely leaving them both with a sizable bruise to commemorate the hiccup in their communication skills.

They looked at each other in a moment of brief confusion, trying to understand what possessed the other to perform such an odd maneuver. The battle waits for no one, however.

"HrrrrrAAAGH!!!"

The angel charged forward, its sights set on hitting them both at once. Disheveled and in mild discomfort though they were, Queen and Joker each tore off their masks and summoned their Personas behind them.

" _Freila!_ "

" _Eiha!_ "

The combined nuclear and cursed energy melded together into an indigo flame that stopped the angel dead in its tracks. Just a fraction of a second later and they would've been left with the answer they'd all been curious about for a while now: _What happens if we get stabbed or impaled in the Metaverse?_ Still no definitive answer to this day, thankfully. The only one dying today was the angel—it fell to its knees in front of them and writhed in agony as its body burned up and collapsed into nothing more than a pile of ash. And thus, the battle was just barely won.

Fortunately for them, their current comrades weren't too keen or observant where it matters.

"Okay, THAT, was pretty amazing, not gonna lie," Panther congratulated the exhausted duo.

"The...the brilliant hue of the flame…" Fox muttered. "Nobody speak! I must illustrate its beauty while it's still fresh in my memory!"

"Dude, do ya gotta make everything about your stinkin' art? They kicked ASS!" Skull added with a slap to Fox's back, sending his brush across the page and ruining the piece.

The sharpest bunch, they were not. Now Queen on the other hand, she was absolutely sharp. Both mentally _and_ physically. While she was rubbing her sore shoulder, she noticed some alarming blood stains on her white gloves. Further observation brought her to the conclusion that she really should be more cautious with her spiked shoulder pads.

"Aki-Joker! You're bleeding!" Queen yelled.

Joker checked himself over, unsuccessfully spotting the wound until Queen grabbed him by the forearm and ripped his damaged sleeve clean off. A bit unexpected, but Joker had long since learned that Queen knew what was best. On his shoulder was a modest cut left by her spike. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her before her instincts took over and compelled her to treat him on the spot.

"Can you guys go check on Mona? I think he may have fallen asleep, seeing as he didn't offer us a hand in that fight. I need to take care of this," Queen asked of the others.

They obliged by their unofficially established co-leader's wishes, albeit with the usual amount of bitching on Skull's part. Panther grabbed him by the ear and pulled him along as she looked back at Queen and Joker sitting together on the train rails. If there was someone codenamed "Canary" on the team, she'd probably have eaten them already.

Once alone, Queen got to work tending to Joker's shoulder.

"...So, why did you do it?" she asked.

"Hmm? Do what?" he feigned ignorance.

"You know _what_ ," she said while dabbing his cut with medicine. "You tried to push me out of the way. Why?"

 _'Because I'm madly in love with you,'_ he thought about saying.

"Because it was my fault," he said, choosing the more cowardly truth to tell. "I wasn't going to let someone else get hurt for my shoddy performance."

"So you still can't use your stronger spells?" she asked.

Of course she knew about that. Her eyes were as sharp as the many spikes on her thief garb, with the added benefit of being absolutely _gorgeous_. Hiding it from her would be impossible.

"Yeah...sorry," Akira grumbled.

"Have you talked with Morgana about it?" she asked.

"His solution is the same as always: _'Let's go to sleep.'_ "

"And do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Sleep? Have you been sleeping well?" she asked.

Her touch on his shoulder glided across to his back as she gently applied the bandage, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary underneath his vest. Even through her glove, every inch of contact imbued him with a feeling he'd become all too familiar with in the past few weeks. With that added motherly tone of her's, Akira wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and bask in the warmth radiating off this girl with whom he was so smitten.

"Yeah…I've been dreaming…" he dumbly responded, his eyes in a lazy trance.

"Hmm… Then perhaps you're simply overworking yourself during the day," Makoto suggested. "Maybe we should… _cancel_ , our other plans."

His pupils regained focus. "What? No, I really doubt that's the cause. You usually do most of the work anyways."

"That's…true, but-" she tried to argue.

"Makoto, we're so close to proving what a manipulative prick Tsukasa is. If being your pretend boyfriend is the cause of my minor issue, then we might as well finish what we started. For everyones' sake," Akira reasoned.

"...Alright then, we'll finish it tomorrow," she said apathetically. "You're all done here, by the way."

He'd forgotten all about the cut on his shoulder, in part thanks to the numbing sensation of the medicine, but mostly because he was so focused on not letting Makoto call things off. 

_Things_. That was putting it generously. In truth, they weren't a "thing." Their relationship was nothing more than a faux romance—a facade born from a convenient misunderstanding by Makoto's newest friend, Eiko. They'd only been pretending to be together for the sake of helping her, and Akira indeed went along with it for that purpose. He was always happy to help, though perhaps a little more eager in this case as it involved being alone with Makoto on a regular basis. It was a win-win, or so he thought. He didn't think being so close to her while keeping his true feelings bottled up would torment him so. This cut was _nothing_ in comparison to the everlasting ache in his heart every time he looked her in the eyes and failed to tell her how he truly felt.

After a brief "thanks" from him and a polite smile from her, they returned to the group, a painfully platonic space dividing them as they walked along the rails.

_So, so painful._

* * *

The bell at Leblanc rang an hour later. His home of coffee beans and ash trays, the place where he could be alone with his thoughts.

It was a little closer to curfew than he'd like, but Sojiro didn't give him any trouble as he passed him by on the way out. Almost as if the old man was all too aware of the reason for his ward's downhearted expression as of late. Young love—a cruel beast to trifle with. But it wouldn't be very responsible of him to offer relationship advice to the juvenile delinquent who really shouldn't be trying to get with someone while on parole. So, he went on with his usual act of not giving a shit about the boy.

Once up the stairs, Akira laid his bag on the table as his furry companion leapt out.

Morgana let out an audible yawn as he stretched his back. "NyAAaaahh… I'm _beat._ "

"You didn't even fight today…" Akira pointed out as he changed into his loungewear.

"Oh? And who's fault is that?" Morgana asked in a literal catty tone.

"...Mine. Sorry," Akira quietly admitted.

These past few weeks, his furry roommate had to sleep on a makeshift bed of towels on the table near the stairs. Morgana hated it. That side of the room was cold and he had this unwavering phobia that some masked assailant was going to walk up the stairs and stab him in his sleep or something. They _had_ an arrangement where, so as long as he didn't groom himself on the bed, he could sleep with Akira. It just didn't work anymore. Akira tossed and turned in his sleep, spoke too. His crush was no secret in this attic. One night he even kicked the poor cat straight off the bed, dreaming that he was a shadow about to sink its dagger-like claws into an unsuspecting Queen.

"You know, I may have no memories," Morgana said with a sly smirk, "but surely a _dashing_ _gentleman_ such as myself knew his way around the ladies. _Maybe_ I could drop some subtle hints for Makoto and..."

"No." Akira stopped him immediately.

"You sure? Because I've got to tell you, this whole keeping to yourself because you're an introvert thing isn't getting you anywhere."

"Goodnight, Morgana." Akira dismissed the feline's " _helpful_ " advice as he rolled over and faced the window.

" _Introvert._ " It stung because it was _true_.

He wasn't antisocial, he was just...quiet. He kept to himself. He didn't go out of his way to make friends, they made him theirs. Morgana, Ryuji, Ann, even Yusuke—they all just sort of spawned in his life here in Shibuya. Morgana in particular was the one constantly pushing him to interact with more people, which he did, albeit with an utter lack of incentive aside from shutting the cat up. It wasn't until he met _her_ that he felt his own personal drive awaken.

 _Those_ _fierce, wine-red eyes._ He was drawn to them, intrigued by the stoic yet adorably fiddly girl controlling them. Fate conveniently provided him with ample opportunities to learn more about this mystifying individual, and from there he spiralled into the hot mess he was today. He was in love with Makoto Niijima, there was no doubt about it.

_Her voice was blessing to his ears. Her gaze seized his heart. Her touch…_

He nestled his cheek against his neatly bandaged shoulder. 

_...Her touch healed all wounds._

He yearned to feel her embrace, however small or brief. And yet...he _couldn't._ Fear of rejection, perhaps. He'd never been in a relationship with someone. How could he know if she felt the same? When would be the right time to confess? Furthermore, he was the leader of the Phantom Thieves. He had obligations to their cause. Wouldn't dating one of his teammates interfere with his priorities? Was he not already prioritizing Makoto's safety above their mission? Should he step down as leader before starting this hypothetical relationship?

These questions are why it was already after midnight. He tossed and turned, lingering somewhere between a conscious mind and a fever dream. Slowly he drifted back and forth between reality and dreamstate. Eventually he was so fed up he decided to go downstairs and take a sleep aid boss left in the bathroom cabinet for him.

He tossed his leg over the edge of the bed.

_Splosh!_

_'Water…?'_

He reached up to rub his eyes and was greeted by the sound of the rattling chains that bound his wrists. With his unblurred vision he looked around to confirm his surroundings: the _Velvet Room._ However, something was noticeably different from usual.

It was _flooded_ with water.

In the middle of the room sat Igor, in his usual position, although now a few feet higher. Each leg of his desk and chair stood haphazardly upon stacks of books. Water dripped down from the ceiling and onto his bare scalp before trickling down his long nose and into the nearly full bowl in front of him. Caroline and Justine clamored off to the side, scooping water by the bucket fulls into the toilet in one of the other cells and unavailingly flushing the invading fluids.

Caroline was the first to notice they had company. She dropped both her buckets and angrily sloshed through the knee deep (from their perspective) water.

"INMATE! WHAT THE _FUCK_ DID YOU DO?!" she screamed as she clutched the bars to his cell door.

" _Me…?_ " he asked.

Caroline pointed up at the water-stained ceiling. "You see that?! It's coming from _your_ cell! This is _your_ fault!"

"How could it be my fault? I'm here for like ten minutes maximum every couple days!" Akira yelled back defensively.

Justine, the voice of reason, was about to intervene before Caroline ripped the cell open and bludgeoned him to death, but their master beat her to it.

" _The Velvet Room exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It does not occupy a physical space. It exists only due to the cognition of those in rehabilitation. You could say: it exists within the heart. For it to be flooded...something is amiss within your's."_ Igor stated, his expression untampered by the circumstances.

Akira stood speechless as it all clicked into place. _This_ was why he couldn't use his spells. His heart, the very source of his power of the wild card, was damaged. And his unspoken love for Makoto was to blame… He sat back down on his bed, contemplating his options.

"...If there is something troubling you, inmate, please tell us," Justine calmly said. "It is our duty to assist in your rehabilitation. We cannot do this under these conditions."

Akira's mouth opened, reluctant to speak as he forced the words out. "There's… this _girl_ …"

" _Excuse you_?! We're drowning because you got the hots from some girl?!" Caroline yelled.

"N-No… I… It's…"

"It's WHAT?! Speak up, inmate!"

"I…I love her," Akira muttered, his eyes and fists clenched shut at his embarrassment.

Caroline fell quiet as if surprised. Justine carefully pried her stunned fellow warden away from the cell doors.

"So there is a girl whom you love. And the issue is…?" Justine asked.

"...I don't know how to tell her," Akira answered.

Caroline snapped out of her unusual daze. " _That's_ your problem? You're just shy??"

"Caroline, plea-" Justine tried to silence her again, to no avail.

"JUSTINE! On your knees! Assume the _Topographically Omni-Purpose and Strategically Heightened Elevation to Locate Fuit-gummy_ position!"

"...' _Top shelf'_ position?" Akira asked, a faint snicker in his voice.

"SHUT IT!" Caroline hissed as she climbed onto Justine's shoulders.

When Justine stood, Caroline was on eye level with Akira. A bit wobbly given Justine's reluctance to hold onto Caroline's soggy socks, but Caroline stabilized them by holding onto the bars.

"What's her name?" Caroline rudely asked.

"Makoto?" he inquisitively answered.

"Alright, pretend I'm Mikado."

"Her name is _Makoto,_ " Akira corrected her, a bit annoyed at having to repeat himself.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Pretend I'm her. A loser like you needs to practice, inmate." Caroline said.

Akira gave the domineering girl a doubtful look. It wasn't that he disagreed that he did indeed lack experience, but he didn't think there would be any to gain from practicing with a girl who, despite her mightier-than-he demeanor, probably knew less than him about romance.

"Oh, for fuck's sake…!" Caroline said as she stuck her arm through the bars and struck him with her baton. "Do what I say, inmate!"

"OKAY! Jesus…" Akira groaned as he rubbed his now doubly wounded shoulder. " _I love you!"_

Caroline smacked him again. "Take it seriously, inmate!"

Akira bit his tongue as he gave her his most sour look available. He wanted to say something to match, but that wouldn't get him closer to leaving this swamp hell, so he took a deep breath instead.

"Makoto… I've been thinking about you for a while now. About _us_ ," he tried.

Caroline delivered another blow to his shoulder. " _That's_ what you start with?! What next, are you gonna tell her about your crusty tissue tribute to her?"

Akira cringed at the pain, but tried again. "Makoto, you're very special to me…"

Another blow, this time to his neck. He fell to his knees in the water, hand on his neck as he gritted his teeth in pain. His eyes were now on level with Justine's, and though he didn't look directly into it, she could tell that this approach was getting them nowhere. He was hurting in more ways than one now. And the water...it had risen several inches since Caroline began.

Justine backed away from the cell door, forcing Caroline to let go of the bars. Once a good distance away, she promptly leaned _backwards,_ dumping Caroline into the water behind them. It wasn't a long fall as the water was already past their waistlines, but enough to submerge the tiny warden completely in the brine.

Her head was the first thing to resurface, gasping for air as she scrambled to regain her footing.

" _BLEGH!_ _PFUI! PFUI!_ WHAT THE HELL, JUSTINE?!" she yelled while spitting and trying desperately to clear her nose and ears.

"You are not helping, Caroline. You're only making things worse," Justine said.

Not that Caroline could hear her over her rampant and frankly a bit dramatic gagging. She probably got more of a taste of the water via her splashing around than she did from going under. "Oh god, why is it-"

" _Salty?_ "Justine suggested, interrupting _her_ for a change.

"Y-Yeah? But not like saltwater, it's like-"

" _Tears?"_

The wardens stared at each other as Justine waited for Caroline to catch up. Her left eye widened as it all became clear. The tear-like substance surrounding them, the woebegone expression of their usually unreadable inmate, the fact that the water _rose_ when he succumbed to even more pain… It was obvious:

Deep down, their inmate was crying.

Caroline stood up properly, about to try a new method before Justine stopped her.

"Caroline, please, allow me," she said.

Justine approached the cell door alone. Akira sat on the bed, no longer heeding mind to his physical wounds as he instead tormented himself over his inability to convey his feelings.

"Inmate," Justine softly spoke.

He didn't respond.

She looked back at Caroline and their master, contemplating the potential blowout should she say her next chosen word. The rising water told her that the reward outweighed the risk.

"... _Akira,_ " she whispered into the cell.

His eyes lazily parted from their fixed point on the wall in front of him. Justine took that as the best confirmation of attentiveness she was going to get.

"If you are in so much pain as a result of your unspoken feelings, would the most reasonable solution not be to _speak_ to her about them?" Justine asked.

"...I just…I don't know how…" he said.

"But you speak to her otherwise, correct?"

"Yeah…"

"Then how is this any different? All you have to do is speak to her and tell her the truth. For better or worse, this the path you must take to mend your wounded heart."

 _'Is it really that easy…?'_ he thought.

"Yes, inmate, it is," Justine added with a slight grin.

Now _that_ definitely got his attention. "How did you…?"

"You forget, you're asleep right now," she said. "We can hear your thoughts as clear as if you spoke them."

Akira scoffed. "And what do you hear?"

"Mainly phrases such as _'I love her'_ , _'Oh god I love her eyes',_ and _'Please god let me hold her hand.'_ You truly are quite enthralled by her presence, aren't you?"

"...I was joking," Akira mumbled, embarrassed by his own inner voice.

"The time for jokes is at an end, inmate," Justine said, returning to her more monotone voice. "You must leave this place at once and prepare yourself for your confession."

"Wait… you mean it's morning already?!"

"That it is, inmate. It's time to wake up."

Akira immediately laid back down on his damp prison mattress and forcefully closed his eyes. He focused on the sensation of rising off the bed, as if his consciousness was buried deep below his physical body's position in Leblanc. Such was his means of leaving the Velvet Room from his dreams.

_Good luck, my trickster._

* * *

He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it. He knew Makoto was more than capable of defending herself. He knew that _any_ kind of physical altercation would violate his parole. It was just instinct when he took that step forward, courage had nothing to do with it.

"You stay the _hell_ away from Makoto." Akira practically growled at the scum who dared to even think of doing Makoto harm.

Makoto was shocked. Tsukasa was shocked. Eiko was shocked. Hell, Akira was shocked. The assertion in voice amazed even him.

"Wh-What was that, you bastard…!?" Tsukasa yelped as his manhood shriveled.

Makoto, still stunned, watched in awe as Akira got right up in Tsukasa's face without an ounce of doubt in his actions. All she could muster was a quiet "Akira-kun…" before she snapped out of it and followed his example of intimidation. The craven man child couldn't handle the fierce double teaming, and soon scurried off to whatever rat hole he chewed his way out of. They were confident he'd stay there.

Eiko, emotionally wounded by the sudden realization that her relationship was all a lie, ran in the opposite direction. Makoto attempted to stop her, but Eiko was long gone before she could even think of what to say to her friend whos world had been turned upside down. The onlookers of the red light district did as they do as whispers of the entire fight slithered from mouth to ear.

"People noticed what happened…" Makoto said.

Akira, still riding...whatever sense of dependability that he was riding, took a few steps forward before looking back over his shoulder. "...Follow me."

Intrigued by his demeanor and seeing nothing more she could or should do for Eiko, Makoto did as told.

He led her to a bar. A much cleaner bar than expected, but a bar nonetheless. Curiously, she watched as Akira, who was apparently acquainted with the bartender, ordered two glasses of tea for them. The atmosphere was surprisingly inviting, in stark contrast to what she always believed a real life bar setting would be like. She had no trouble letting her tensed posture loosen as she took a seat next to him and they got to talking about today's rollercoaster of events.

"You know, I have a bad habit of acting in the moment. I can't help but get swept up in emotion… That's why I always have to take extra care to keep myself composed. My father was the same way…" she said while watching beads of water trickle down the side of her glass before looking back up at Akira. "That's not the proper way to act though. There's no telling what would have happened if you hadn't stepped in."

Was _this_ his chance? A moment of emotional vulnerability? No, horrible timing. That'd be an awful thing to do. Respect was a package deal with adoration.

"That aside," she continued, "this place is...interesting. How did you ever find somewhere like this…? You know so much."

Okay, _this_ he could work with. He gave her a corny grin before returning the compliment. "Not as much as _you._ "

She raised a brow at him alongside her own grin before letting out a soft chuckle. "I appreciate it, but I doubt that's true."

Well, at least he made her laugh…

"Honestly though," she added, "spending time with you and getting to know Eiko has given me a great deal to think about. There's so much you can miss with your head buried between the pages of a book. I thought I knew how the world worked, but the more I spent time with you guys, the more I realized how naive I was. I see now that there are some things I need other people to teach me…"

Her eyes traveled along the bar top towards him, then up his shoulders before darting back to her tea when she realized how _attentively_ he was watching her.

"...D-Do you remember how Eiko said I would flunk a test about love? Well, um… I don't know how to study that subject," she said. "I can't learn about romance by myself…"

_An opportunity presents itself…_

Akira took a deep breath, but when he opened his mouth, the very clear and premeditated words he wished to say were simply nonexistent. He just awkwardly stared at her with his mouth partially open for several _long_ heartbeats before falling back on his witty instincts.

"I'll be your study partner."

_Aaaand he tanked it… or so he thought..._

Makoto stared deeply into his eyes, as if searching for the truth she knew was there but wanted to make doubly sure before making a fool of herself.

"Akira…" she purposely said without the honorific. "Do you… _like_ me?"

Akira froze, paralyzed by this gracious outcome. Such a cheesy line and yet it actually _worked._ All he had to do now was confirm the implication. Just one little word and they'd take the first step in going steady, genuinely this time. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, but on many nights did he play out the possibilities of their lives together in his head. Today it was dating, but years from now? He hoped to one day have the honor of telling her how much he loved her _officially_. On _paper_. As _husband_ and _wife_. Even then, all he'd have to do is mutter a simple phrase...

"I do," he said aloud, gazing deeply back into her eyes as his imagination traveled deeper into lovesick lunacy.

"O-Oh…" she responded, her eyes wide in disbelief.

 _'Shit! Shit!'_ he cursed at his inner thoughts.

"Then… i-if it's alright with you, that is… maybe we could start dating, for real this time?" she suggested.

"I'd love- _erm_ , l-like that," he stuttered, hoping she didn't quite catch that.

Oh, she totally heard that "love" and it most certainly lit her face up like Christmas. His face mirrored her own, though more out of sheer embarrassment. A merciful god ordained that a usual customer would walk in at that moment, prompting Lala Escargot to shoo the new lovebirds out onto the street with a knowing grin that they were made for each other.

The train ride home was a bit different, as to be expected. They'd been fortunate enough to actually find some seats this time. Or perhaps unfortunate as they sat awkwardly side-by-side, neither knowing the proper etiquette when sitting so close to your significant other. Do they have permission to enter each others' privacy circle? Do they hold hands? They couldn't answer, but fate could. 

The train accelerated a bit abruptly after making the last stop, causing them to slide to one side of the bench. Their shoulders touched, _the_ shoulders. The one's they'd bumped against each other last night in the Metaverse. Makoto made a futile attempt to stop herself from sliding further into him by instinctively reaching _her_ _hand_ out towards his knee, where _his_ _hand_ rested. It surprised them both as they immediately jerked their hands away from each other, worried that they had done something to make the other uncomfortable. They looked each other in the eye for several moments before Akira began to snicker, soon followed by Makoto as they laughed at themselves.

"Wow, we're terrible at this, aren't we?" Makoto asked between chuckles.

"Uh-huh." was his response.

"You'd think that after _pretending_ to date for so long, we'd have at least some idea how to-…" Makoto stopped mid sentence as if she'd made a sudden discovery.

"Yeah?" he asked, curious as to why she stopped.

"Your _spells_. You stopped being able to use them around the same time we started pretend dating…" she said. "The two are connected, aren't they?"

He turned his head away from her and sucked his teeth. He had _hoped_ to never have to explain this, or at least do it over texts…

"S-So… _basically,_ not telling you how I felt, keeping it to myself, it made me weaker in the Metaverse."

"So the whole time we pretended to date, you…?"

"Yeah, I liked you," he finished for her.

"...I see," she quietly said. "So we could have been dating for real this whole time…"

"YONGEN-JAYA. THIS IS YONGEN-JAYA." the automated station voice rang throughout the train car as it came to a stop.

"Sorry, what was that?" Akira asked. "I didn't hear you."

"Oh, nothing, don't mind me. This is your stop, isn't it?"

"Or _not,_ " he offered. "I'd be more than happy to walk you home, if you'd like."

Makoto smiled at him. "That's sweet of you, but…"

"Your sister?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah… sorry. I'll text you when I get home?"

"I'd _love_ that," Akira joked as he stood up.

Makoto walked with him the few short steps to the cabin door. They weren't quite sure what to do as he stepped outside and turned around. Hug? They definitely couldn't kiss, unbeknownst to either of them that the other really wanted to. They settled on a mutual wave and slightly friendlier than usual smile as the door closed and Makoto began moving further and further away.

She returned to her seat moments later as the gravity of it all sank in. She had a _boyfriend_ , a real one. _Akira_ was _hers_ and _she_ was _his_ … After more than a month of pining, it was finally real.

 _'I wonder what he'll think when he sees me use Freidyne…'_ she thought to herself.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to take a somewhat different approach to Akira's character. Everyone knows how he helps Makoto, but what if she actually helps him overcome his shortcomings? Also he's a semi-mute protagonist and outcast so like it makes perfect sense for him to be more introverted or sumn I dunno. Anyways HAPPY SHUMAKO WEEK 2020 EVERYBODY!🎉🎉


End file.
